


Elevator Music

by flibbertygigget



Series: The Other 51 [35]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron makes Elevator Music, Drinking, Fake Dating, Good for You cover exists, Hate mail, Homophobia, I have no songwriting skills so please don't shoot me when you see the end, M/M, The Hamilsquad is Freestyle Love Supreme, musician au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron has a moderately successful career making what Lafayette calls "elevator music," but after a night of drinking he drops a single featuring Lafayette. Cue hate mail, paparazzi, and some very awkward fake dates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elevator Music

The day after Aaron's single that featured Lafayette dropped, he woke to find his inbox flooded with messages. He sighed. He should have known to never fraternize with Alex's friends.

* * *

Lafayette wasn't the worst person to get drunk with. While Hercules got loud and boisterous and Alex got rather handsy, Lafayette didn't seem to lose any of charm or dignity. In fact, the only difference drunk Lafayette had from sober Lafayette was the drunk Lafayette came up with far worse ideas, and Aaron was usually sober enough to counteract them.

That night, unfortunately, was not one of the usual ones.

"But really, mon ami, if you want to get famous in ze business, you have got to be risky. Being risky sells." Lafayette's accent, always present, became ridiculous when he was drunk, and Aaron was in no shape to try and keep up with his though process and decipher it at the same time.

"What do you mean? I'm not boring-"

"Aaron, you make ze fucking elevator music. Zat is not risky."

"Fine. What are you gonna do about it?" Aaron's sarcasm apparently fell flat, or at the very least was lost to a drunk Lafayette, because Lafayette's face lit up.

"Mon ami, we shall have a collaboration! It will sell over double the amount your last album sold!"

"No, no way. I'm not a rapper, Lafayette. Besides, your music is a bit..." Hard, experimental, "different from mine. We won't sell shit."

"Oh, no, mon ami, we will not do it with either of our styles. No, we shall do a cover. I know what it shall be!"

Aaron tried to argue, but it was no use. Lafayette, though perhaps the sanest member of Alex's freestyle group, was utterly unreasonable when he had decided something. The moment that Aaron was sober enough to sing Lafayette dragged him to Mount Vernon Recording Studio and gave him the sheet music and backing track to some Selena Gomez song.

* * *

The phone call from Washington had been expected. After all, Aaron had messed up big time. The invitation/order to meet him in his office... that was less expected and more worrying.

"Sir, I can explain-" he said, but to his surprise Washington was smiling. Aaron always had the impression that the CEO of Mount Vernon Records had never liked him. Alex and his friends were bold and revolutionary; Jefferson was a hit-making machine; Aaron was just... safe. Elevator music, as Lafayette had said. Mellow piano covers of classic dittys that were considered lame even in their heyday. He sold enough to cover his costs, but not much else, and as far as Washington was concerned he was a disappointment. But now..

"Sit down, son. Drink? Honestly, what possessed you to release that single?"

"I have no idea," Aaron said. That was true at least.

"Genius idea! In one stroke, you're suddenly the artist to watch. To have you not only come out publically, but featuring Lafayette of all people, is-"

"Sir, it's a Selena Gomez song."

"Exactly. You took something that is already popular and reinvented it! This can't help but get radio play, and the free publicity from the inevitable controversy will no doubt boost sales of your next album."

"Look, I have no idea what's going on," Aaron said bluntly. "I woke up, and my email is overflowing with comments on a single that I barely remember recording. I was drunk! I don't even know what my next album is going to be!" Washington was silent for a moment.

"Are you serious?" he said.

"Of course," Aaron said. "You know that I wouldn't sabotage myself like this if I was in my right mind."

"Sabotage is far too strong a word," Washington said. "Look, at this point you have two options. You can either wait this out and hope it blows over, which considering your main fanbase is pretty damn unlikely, or you could embrace this as an opportunity to transform your image. You could go from VFW post to stadiums."

"I can't just- just destroy my whole image like that. I'm classy, I'm safe, I'm not-"

"I'm not asking you to be Alex," Washington said. "I'm not even asking you to completely change your image. You can still be classy, just a little... less safe for the old white folks."

"Those old white folks are my only fans," Aaron said. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, sir, but it just isn't possible. I'll have to deal with this in my own way."

As he left the office, Washington's disappointing gaze burning the back of his neck, Aaron breathed in and out, trying to calm down. He would simply have to wait for it to blow over. It had to blow over eventually.

* * *

Aaron glared at the half-finished beer in front of him. At this rate, he was on his way to becoming a full-blown alcoholic, but he felt like he deserved at least one more drunken night.

"3,327 pieces of hate mail," he said to Alex, "and that was three hours ago. Who knows how many it's up to by now."

"Didn't you put that single out, like, three days ago?" Alex said. "How many people in the world know both you and know about Bandcamp?"

"3,327, apparently," Aaron said. "You'd be surprised how many old people get very invested in their favorite musicians. One old lady was trying to set me up with her niece."

"Well, at least this way she can try with the right gender."

"She's in her 70s, Alex. She's more likely to throw holy water at me than get me a date."

"Surely there are some supportive messages in there."

"23," Aaron said. Alex's mouth dropped open.

"Are you serious?" he said.

"As a bullet." Aaron stood, wobbling slightly as he tried to find his feet. "This isn't going to work, is it? This won't blow over, all my fans will leave me, and I'll be known as the guy who fucked over his own career because he had a few too many and went along with his idiot colleague. Fuck!"

"Calm down," Alex said, and Aaron couldn't hold back a bitter laugh. Alex, the man who couldn't make it a week without starting a feud, was telling him to calm down.

"At this point it might be better to just cut my losses, change my name, and move to Iceland."

"Or you could decide to mess with them even more." Aaron froze, or at least he tried to. He was still swaying a little.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Well, it's obvious that your fans are terrible," Alex said. "So, if I were you, I'd do everything possible to make them even more uncomfortable. Hell, I might even cover "Girl Crush" to really stick it to the straights."

"You," Aaron said, "are absolutely insane."

"What else can you do?"

"I didn't say it wasn't brilliant. Now help me to the recording studio before I get sober enough to realize that this is a bad idea."

* * *

His new single went over about as well as Aaron expected, which meant that his hate mail increased exponentially. Ironically enough, so did the sales, since people were apparently buying his song just to complain about it. Aaron couldn't bring himself to care about either.

His career was over, had been over from the moment that he had let Lafayette drag him into that recording booth. there was nowhere to go but down, so he might as well shoot himself in the foot even further. All in all, Aaron had firmly decided to take the hate mail and occasional death threats into stride.

The paparazzi were another story entirely.

"Mr. Burr, why have you decided to start releasing these singles now?"

"Mr. Burr, what kind of reception were you hoping for?"

"Are these singles any indication of what will be on your next album?"

"Do these songs have an inspiration? A special someone, perhaps?"

"Oh, piss off," Aaron mumbled, pushing past the flashing cameras. "No comment!"

"I have to admit," Alex said when Aaron finally made his was inside Mount Vernon Records, "it's pretty nice to see someone else being harassed for once."

"Jefferson gets it more than you," Aaron said. Alex made a face at the mention of his greatest rival.

"Yeah, but he  _likes_ it. Granted, so do I, but what makes it so fun is that you'd rather be doing anything but being a musical success."

"If this is success, I want none of it," Aaron said. "Hate mail I can handle, but those damn press leeches just... make me want to shout something career-ruining."

"It probably wouldn't work; you seem stupidly bullet-proof. No matter what you do, you're just too classy to be hated."

"Do you even know the definition of the word 'hate'? I could say that vaccines cause autism and I'd still get the same amount of hate mail."

"Well, do it than." Aaron stared at Alex, who looked far too pleased with himself. "It doesn't have to be that anti-vaxxer bullshit, just yell something that will give the tabloids a heart attack."

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"You said it yourself, you can't make your reputation worse at this point. Besides, I enjoy your suffering."

"I hate you," Aaron said before opening the door. In at instant about two dozen camera flashes blinded him.

"Mr. Burr-"

"Put this in your damned tabloids!" he shouted, and instantly the paparazzi fell silent. "You all know Alex from Freestyle Love Supreme? Yeah, he's my boyfriend!" He slammed the door and turned to Alex fuming.

"Oh, you bastard," Alex said, but he sounded almost admiring. Aaron shrugged. "Hey, man, welcome to the 'ultra-queer confirmed' club!"

* * *

As it turned out, Alex wasn't a bad kisser.

Of course, it was hard to concentrate on the way that Alex's lips felt on his when, out of the corner of his eye, Aaron could see half the coffee shop snapping pictures on their camera phones. As far as their plan was concerned, those images were a good thing, but Aaron couldn't help but feel bitter. After all, even a small crush couldn't help but be encouraged when the focus of said crush was currently trying to make him forget his own name.

"Later," Aaron said, loud enough for the other patrons to get the hint but soft enough to make it seem as though he meant to be heard by Alex alone.

"Come on," Alex said.

"Not with everyone watching." Alex settled back in his chair, mouth set in a rather convincing pout.

Aaron had no idea why Alex was willing to go along with his rather silly plan. Part of him fantasized about Alex maybe returning his feelings, but it was more likely that he simply liked pissing people off. Either way, Aaron was lucky.

That was the long and short of it. Aaron was lucky. Neither the constant hate mail nor his ridiculous crush had a chance of leading to something better, so he'd simply have to do his best to mess around with one and ignore the other. Kissing Alex... it didn't mean anything. His friend was helping him with a ruse and nothing more.

* * *

The next time that Washington called Aaron to his office, he just threw a couple of tabloids, Alex and Aaron kissing on the cover, and laughed. As he talked about strategy and selling Aaron's new image to the public and how they were already getting buzz for his next album... Aaron was distracted by how Alex's hair looked glossy and smooth on the cover of the tabloids.

This could be an issue.

Aaron wasn't in love. He couldn't be. It was just a crush, a childish, stupid crush.

"You should consider releasing an original song next," Washington said. Aaron started, thrown from his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"I mean," Washington said, "that you've never created an original song, only covers. The people are asking to hear your voice, what you really think and feel. This is an amazing opportunity for you, son, and one I don't intend to let you waste."

"But I've never written a song before." That was... not entirely true. "And besides, I've never had any music training. All I have is my voice, I can't-"

"I'll get someone to help arrange it for you, don't worry," Washington said, waving a careless hand. "What's really important is that these words are your own, not someone else's."

His own words. The concept was almost laughable. Aaron has never been able to use his language the same why that Alex or Jefferson could. Alex brought you down with rapid-fire wit and blistering put-downs; Jefferson wove hypnotic fantasies and pleasant illusions. Aaron though... Aaron had never seen the need to use words with anything other than his natural bluntness. To him, words weren't so much a vehicle for thoughts and ideas, they were a tool to plainly get across what he wished for others to know. He was not a songwriter... but according to Washington he had to try.

* * *

 _I'm not the type to think about all my feelings_  
_In fact, I prefer just to let these things pass by_  
_But then_  
_I hear you_  
_And I can't quite seem to explain it  
__I just want to keep talking with you all my life_  

Only an hour after he uploads the song, Alex calls him.

"Aaron, is this about me?"

 _I tell myself that I can't be all you've wanted_  
_The homilies and hymns have taught me far too well_  
_But you move_  
 _And I stare_  
 _And I can't quite seem to explain it_  
 _I just want to keep looking at you all my life_

"Alex, it's got to be close to midnight."

"So? You're still awake."

 _I know things won't work out between us_  
_I know it's wrong to feel what I feel_  
_I know it's futile, but I keep on hoping  
_ _That one day we could be real_

"Look, it doesn't mean anything. It's just a stupid little song that I wrote in five minutes."

"That's not what Washington told me."

"That asshole."

"I think he's trying to play matchmaker."

 _The world has lies I wish would last forever_  
_The world sees sins that allow me to breathe_  
_Yet I hope_  
_And I pray_  
_That this song will be explaination_

"Aaron?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, it's about you."

_And that someday I'll wake and you'll be in my life_

 


End file.
